Waking up to a pounding in her head and cotton in her mouth, Anana groaned and rolled over, tugging the soft sheets over her to block out the sunlight shining down on her.
Sunlight. No, that wasn't right. She'd put cardboard up over her windows to prevent exactly this. Which meant… she wasn't in her room.
Anana slowly opened her eyes. She was in a comfortable bed with white sheets. The bedroom was large—so definitely not hers—with a wooden dresser and a room leading to what looked like a bathroom. Expensively furnished, whoever owned this was not a college student like her.
She looked to her right and saw a dark head turned away from her. Anana felt somewhat confident that she'd be able to recall his name if she strained her memory enough, but having to think that hard would probably hurt.
Just as she was debating reaching over to wake him up, or simply finding her clothes and slipping out, the stranger stirred then turned over, his eyes blinking open.
Well, shit, he was pretty. Her drunken self had good taste, at least.
He stared at her blankly, and it was nice to know she wasn't the only one who didn't remember anything. After a moment, however, he smiled lasciviously. "Hey."
Anana rolled her eyes. "Really? You're hitting on someone you already had sex with?"
The guy shrugged. "You're gorgeous. Why not? In case I didn't introduce myself last night, I apologize for that lapse in judgment; I'm Sergio."
"Anana," she said. "Well, this has been fun, I think, but I really should be getting home." She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
"Wait, you don't live here?" Sergio asked, sitting up as well.
"What? No. This is your place."
Sergio shook his head. "No it isn't."
"Well, it's sure as hell not mine," Anana said. They stared at each other in confusion before it sunk in.
"Oh my God," Sergio whispered in horror.
Anana jumped up, not caring about her nudity. Sergio jerked out of bed as well, and they stumbled around in a frenzy, quickly locating their pile of clothes on the floor and divvying them up.
"Are you sure none of this looks familiar?" Anana asked as she hooked on her bra. "Maybe it's a friend's place?"
Sergio zipped up his jeans and pulled his shirt over his head, and Anana tried not to be sad about that. "No, I've never been here before," he said, glancing around, and then he froze.
"What is it?"
He strode over to the nightstand and picked up a framed photo. "I know whose house this is," he said quietly.
"Someone who won't call the cops and will instead laugh and treat this like the funny misunderstanding that it is?" Anana said hopefully.
Sergio looked up grimly. "My worst enemy."
"Oh Jesus," she moaned, sitting back down on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands.
He moved to her side, holding out the photo. "Look at this face. Do you see this?" He pointed at a blonde woman who was standing with her arm around a teenage boy. "This is the face of evil."
Anana stared at him. "Okay, then why are we in her house?" she managed finally.
Sergio shrugged. "No idea."
"How did we get here? We didn't drive, did we?" As awful as that thought was, it would mean that there was a car outside that they could use.
"I don't think so," he said. "I let my roommate take the car last night to go visit his girlfriend, so unless you have one—"
They both froze as a noise reached their ears. It was a groaning sound, like machinery, and it seemed to be coming from downstairs.
"What is that?" Anana breathed.
Sergio gulped. "I believe that is the garage door of evil."
Anana rose to her feet quickly, fear coursing through her. "She's coming home! She's home right now! What the hell do we do?"
Sergio paced back in forth, clutching at his hair. "Oh God, okay—it's gonna be okay, we just have to get out before she notices us." His voice was panicked.
"How the hell are we gonna get out of here?" Anana snapped.
A door opened downstairs.
"What about the window?" she suggested hurriedly. She rushed over to it; it was already open. Leaning out and looking down, she nearly collapsed with relief. "There's a trellis we can climb down," she said over her shoulder.
"Thank fuck," Sergio whispered, joining her at the window.
"Okay, I'll go first while you keep an eye out, then you come down while I do," she said.
He nodded. "Go for it."
Mustering her courage, Anana swung one leg out and put her foot on the top of the trellis. She pressed on it hesitantly to be sure it could take her weight, and then she climbed down quickly.
Once she was standing on the lawn, she checked for any sign of someone, then waved up at Sergio. "Come down," she whisper-shouted.
Sergio started to clamber out of the window, but Anana hissed, "What are you doing—put the fucking picture back, you moron!"
He blinked in realization, and disappeared inside the room while Anana rubbed her temples. He was back at the window in a moment, climbing down the trellis expertly.
Together they surveyed their surroundings. They were standing in a backyard. The trellis and the bedroom it led up to were on the right, and on the left was a sliding glass door with what looked like a living room inside.
Sergio jerked his head to the right side of the house, and Anana nodded and followed—only to freeze.
Around the corner, along the side of the fence, was a doghouse with a large, snarling mutt, its eyes fixed on them.
Anana felt Sergio's hands on her arms, gently pulling her backwards, and she needed no encouragement. They backed away, but the dog moved forward with them.
"Run!" Sergio whispered in her ear, and the two of them took off, bolting across the massive lawn.
Anana could hear the dog's heavy footsteps after them, and when Sergio grabbed her hand and pulled her to the side, she didn't hesitate. He pulled the glass door open and ushered her inside, slamming it behind them.
Gasping for breath, she looked around at the clean, white living room. "What the fuck, why are we back in the house, we just got out!" she panted at him.
"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want to take your chances with Cujo out there?!" Sergio snapped back.
She opened her mouth to argue back, but there came the sound of someone's feet on the wooden floor of the hallway, and they both ended up diving behind the couch.
"God, Scythe, shut up," came a young male voice.
Anana peeked over the top of the couch to see a lanky blond teenager pulling the curtains closed in front of the glass door. Sergio pulled on her arm again, and they backed out of the room, still in a crouch, and turned into the hallway. Hearing the boy walk after them, they ducked into the nearest door and into a dark room.
The kid walked right past their hiding place, muttering "stupid fucking dog" as he went.
"Who was that?" Anana whispered. "Her son?"
"Yes, the she-devil is capable of reproduction," Sergio said sourly.
Anana considered this. "So it was him that came home? Maybe she's not home yet," she suggested. "Any chance he'd be understanding and willing to help us?"
Sergio turned to her, his face grim. "Constance would call the cops on us. But Spencer would lock us in the basement and torture us. No, our best bet is probably just to stay in here until we're sure we can get out."
She looked around at the room they were standing in. "What is here?"
"I think it's one of those linen closets or something," Sergio hazarded. "Let's hope he doesn't need anything from here anytime soon."
"How often do people need linen closets? Who the fuck even has a linen closet?"
"White people," Sergio offered.
Anana had to concede that. They stood in silence for a few minutes, listening to Spencer walking around on the second floor, until she remembered something.
"My phone! God, I'm such an idiot," she said, tugging her phone from her jacket pocket. Her hope faded as the screen refused to light up. "Damn it, battery's dead. What about yours?"
Sergio was already holding his. "I texted my friend, but he's horrible at texting back. But hey." He held out the phone for her. "My search history has directions to this house. So we definitely looked up how to get here last night on purpose."
"That's kind of relieving," she said. "At least we weren't kidnapped or something weird like that. Why would we even want to come here though?"
He looked a little uncomfortable. "Well, I was in the bar last night because I wanted to get drunk and complain about her, so I think I may have suggested it."
"You suggested coming to her house and having sex in her bed?"
"Probably not that, but I did want to scream at her. But she wasn't here, so," He shrugged.
"Next best thing, I suppose," Anana said wryly. "Well, it sounds like that kid's not coming back down, so maybe we could just make a run for it."
"And go where? Ask one of the neighbors for a ride?"
She held out her hand. "Here, I'll text my brother. He owes me a favor," she said when he handed over his phone.
Toluk texted back a while later with his reluctant agreement. "Okay, he'll be here in a couple minutes," Anana said. "I guess all we have to do is wait."
Sergio nodded in agreement, and they stood in silence. Anana became aware of how close they were, pressed up against each other in the dark, cramped closet. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, and there was nowhere else to look but up at him, his stubbled jaw, his pink lips. Was everything about this man pretty?
He seemed to have a similar line of thought, for he was studying her intently with hooded eyes. Anana wondered how much of last night he remembered—she was suddenly getting flashes of lips on her heated skin and fingers tugging at her hair.
Sergio slowly started to tilt his head down, and Anana met him the rest of the way. They kissed fiercely, gasping in air whenever they could. His hands clutched her hips; she grabbed at his shirt desperately. Her mouth still felt rather dry from the hangover, so they kept their kiss mostly close-mouthed.
The phone buzzed between them, and they both jerked apart. Anana looked down at the screen, blinking quickly to focus. "Toluk's waiting a block over," she said.
"Okay," Sergio swallowed, seemingly gathering himself. He reached out and slowly turned the doorknob, inching the door open. Peeking his head out, he looked from side to side and nodded. "We're good. Follow me."
He slid out into the hallway, Anana on his heels. The front door was at one end, the staircase at the opposite end, with the living room ahead of them on the left and the kitchen across from it.
They tiptoed down the hall, sticking close to the wall. Anana glanced back every once in a while to check for the boy coming down the stairs. They were two steps from the front door and she was just starting to take a deep breath when—
The door handle turned.
Anana grabbed Sergio's shirt and tugged them both to the side, into the kitchen. They circled the breakfast bar and dropped to the ground out of sight just as a blonde woman opened the door and walked inside.
Knees pressed painfully to the tile, Anana stuffed her fist in her mouth to keep from screaming. Sergio's arms wrapped around her, and she realized she was still clinging to his shirt. They crouched there against the cabinet until Anana gathered her courage and rose painstakingly slow to peer over the top of the counter.
The blonde woman was standing at the other end of the breakfast bar, but her head was down as she flipped through some envelopes in her hand. Anana jerked her head back down, trying not to hyperventilate.
Just as her legs started to tremble from the effort of crouching in one place for so long, they heard the click-clack of high heels on wood floors, walking away.
Sergio let out a sigh of relief that was half-sob. Anana dropped down to her knees hard, and didn't pay any attention to how much it hurt.
"Jesus fuck," she gasped. "We're never getting out of here."
"No, no, no," Sergio said. "Did you hear that? She's gone upstairs. We can still make a break for it, we just have to hurry—"
"SPENCER!" The shout came from upstairs.
The two of them flinched violently.
"What, Mom?" the teenage boy's voice hollered back.
"What the hell happened to my room?"
Anana remembered the state of the bedroom's sheets, and her stomach dropped. Sergio's mouth fell open, and he covered it with his hand. "Oh shit."
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" the boy yelled.
"Because I was gone all weekend, and you were the only one home!"
"I didn't go into your room, God!"
"Then why are the sheets all messed up? I don't recall giving you permission to sleep in my bed."
"That's disgusting!"
"Oh, and I suppose this condom wrapper just ended up on the floor by itself?"
Sergio winced. The boy made a horrified noise, and they heard the sound of him stomping down the stairs.
"Look, all I asked was that you not have Blake over here while I was gone!" The woman's voice neared as she followed after her son.
"I didn't have her over, I was at her house last night!" Spencer sounded close; he was likely standing in the hallway right at the doorway to the kitchen.
"You were what?!"
Spencer made another noise of frustration, then his steps pounded away, and the front door opened and slammed shut.
They heard Constance sigh, then her heels clicked back to down the hall and up the stairs again.
Enough was enough, Anana decided. Grabbing Sergio's hand, she pulled him up. He seemed to agree, and they rushed to the front door, eased it open quietly, and slipped out into the open air.
There was no time to feel relieved, however, and soon they were sprinting down the sidewalk, glancing around nervously for any neighbors who might've seen.
Turning the corner at the end of the block, they came across a dark blue car, idling by the sidewalk. Anana opened the back door and climbed in, Sergio right behind her.
"Toluk, thank God. Drive fast," she pleaded
"What the hell took so long?" Toluk asked as he pulled away from the curb. "And who is this?" He eyed Sergio in the rearview mirror.
"This is Sergio. He's the guy I was with last night."
"What? Why is he coming with us?"
Anana let her head fall back on the seat in exhaustion. "Because we had to get out of that stranger's house."
"Wait, the stranger's house you were stuck in wasn't his?" Toluk turned his head around briefly to stare at her.
"Not exactly. It's a long story."
"It was my mortal enemy's house," Sergio explained. "We snuck in to defile her bed together."
This did nothing to decrease Toluk's glare, and Anana squeezed his hand in warning. Sergio sent her a smirk, and she realized with a jolt that she was, in fact, still clutching his hand.
Anana thought of Harry Potter facing the mountain troll with Ron and Hermione, thought of 'There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other'. She held Sergio's hand even tighter.